


hold on, i still want you (come back, i still need you)

by Pawprinter



Series: 500 Follower Celebration on Tumblr [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Marvel Cinematic Universe Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Avenger!Bellamy, Avenger!Clarke, Break Up, Endgame Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Exes, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Non-Linear Narrative, Self-Sacrifice, Strangers to Lovers, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-14 10:34:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20599328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pawprinter/pseuds/Pawprinter
Summary: After the Decimation, she left him. Now, years later, Clarke and Bellamy need to work together again to stop Thanos.Their mission is a simple one; travel to Vormir and retrieve the soul stone through whatever means necessary.What isn’t so simple is their past; it is filled with fractured promises, haunting memories, and broken hearts.Failure isn’t an option though. The fate of the universe rests on their shoulders.A Marvel Cinematic Universe AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eyessharpweaponshot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyessharpweaponshot/gifts).
**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This is a Marvel Cinematic Universe AU!** A few notes regarding this before we get started:  
-This fic includes spoilers from the movie "Avengers: Endgame" (and all movies before this one).  
-You don't really need to know a lot about the MCU to read this fic, but it would help! I reference quite a few events from Avengers, Avengers: Age of Ultron, Captain America Civil War, Avengers: Infinity War, and Avengers: Endgame. I describe the events with enough detail that you shouldn't need any additional information outside of this fic, and I also change the events MAJORLY, so I don't think it should matter too much. If you have any questions, let me know.  
-Bellamy and Clarke **tentatively** take the places of Black Widow and Hawkeye, BUT just barely. The only similarities to these characters is the fact they use their weapons. Outside of that, they do not have a similar back story, a similar connection, or similar personalities. I hope this makes sense!
> 
> **WARNINGS:** please read the tags! This fic includes violence, temporary character death, self-sacrifice, grief, mention of blood, and coarse language.
> 
> **FORMAT:** this fic flips back and forth between events. The main story is taking place in 2023 in space and on Vormir (these sections are labelled accordingly). There are flashbacks scattered throughout to show Bellamy and Clarke's history, and these are also labelled correctly with locations and dates. 
> 
> This fic is written for my lovely friend Jen ([eyessharpweaponshot](https://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com)). To celebrate me hitting 500 Tumblr followers, she asked for a "Bellarke fic with some exes goodness wrapped in. Bit of angst, bit of love and a lot of your brilliance" (she's so sweet, fyi). She requested this back in May, when I was fresh off of seeing Avengers: Endgame, and this fic was born! [There's also a funny story regarding this in the bottom notes, but I'm cutting this top note short because it's LONG!]
> 
> The title of this fic is based off lyrics from the song "Hold On" by Chord Overstreet.
> 
> Enjoy.

**SPACE. 2023.**

Five years hadn’t made it easier. 

Time was supposed to heal all wounds, but, to Clarke, time only made everything feel muddled and far away, but not healed – _definitely not healed_. 

They didn’t move on. They _couldn’t _move on because _they lost. _They lost and the cost was priceless. 

People died because of their failures. 

Children were orphans. 

Families were destroyed.

After the Decimation, the world wasn’t the same. _The universe wasn’t the same. _How could it be, after losing half of its population? _After losing friends, family, loved ones_. How could _anyone _be the same after that?

She wasn’t. He wasn’t. 

Nobody was. 

Half of the world vanished – turned to ashes, floating away in the wind like clouds in the sky. The other half of the world mourned for them – they were filled with grief, sorrow, and pain.

It had been five years since they lost the battle that mattered the most. It had been five years since half of the population of the living simply vanished. It had been five years since the ones left behind were plagued with ghosts.

_It had been four years since she lost so much more._

Clarke glanced at Bellamy out of the corner of her eye. He was leaned over a control panel, his brows pushed together in thought. Her eyes swept over him and her heart hammered in her chest.

_He looked good. _He always looked good, so it didn’t really surprise her. His hair hung onto his forehead, as curly as ever. His eyes reflected the blue light of the controls he hovered over. The scar above his lip was pale against his freckled skin. 

_Gods, _she could still remember how good it felt to be with him. She remembered what it was like to thread her fingers between his curls, her nails scraping gently against the skin of his scalp. Clarke could still feel his lips moving along her body, leaving a trail of fire behind. She could still see how dark his eyes were as he captured her lips with his, how the scar on his lip would quirk up when he looked smug, how his hands would cause goosebumps to erupt along her arms.

She shook herself. 

_No. _

Not now. 

Not anymore.

Bellamy was oblivious to her stare. She quickly averted her gaze and settled on looking out the window of their spacecraft. It was easy to get distracted by the kaleidoscope of stars and colours only inches away.

A day didn’t go by where she didn’t regret what happened between them. She loved him and he loved her, once upon a time. 

_Half of that statement was still true. _

Her heart still yearned for him. Her body still ached for him.

_Not anymore, _she reminded herself. _Not anymore._

* * *

**EARTH. 2012.**

She was dressed in all black and had guns strapped along her hips. Despite her hair being pulled back into a braid, the winds from the helicopter blades made it whip around her face, stinging her skin.

_And Bellamy. _Bellamy was also all in black, the S.H.I.E.L.D logo on his right bicep. His hair was unruly, like he’d ran all the way to the helicarrier from the base – which he very well might have. The sunglasses perched on his nose were a bit much, but so was the quiver full of arrows on his back and the dozens of knives on his hips.

“Agent Blake, this is Agent Griffin.” The Director’s voice was gruff and straight to the point. She didn’t mind – they didn’t have a lot of time to waste. “We’re meeting the rest of the team in ten. Suit up.”

The rest of the team was a scientist who had been exposed to a tad too much gamma radiation, a billionaire with a suit of iron, a war hero, and a Norse god.

New York was tough. 

It wasn’t her first mission – she was far from a rookie – but it was the one that seemed to have the odds against them. She was used to taking down drug criminals, and spies, and HYDRA agents – not _fucking aliens. _

She felt out of her depth with merely her guns when everyone else had a superpower. For fuck sake, she was fighting alongside a Norse god whom could summon lightning, while she could only shoot bullets. 

_She felt like she showed up to a gunfight with a knife._

Clarke hadn’t seen much of Bellamy after their quick introduction. She stuck with Cap on the ground, while he perched on buildings, firing arrow after arrow into the oncoming masses. If she was being honest, she almost forgot he was there.

Cap launched her upwards, and she used the momentum to take down an oncoming enemy. The Norse god’s hammer flew past her ear as soon as her feet hit the pavement again, stealing the breath from her lungs. Banner threw a car that sailed over her head.

She lost track of her teammates quickly. The aliens overwhelmed her.

Her heart raced. Sweat trickled down her back from heat and exertion. Her hair had been pulled from its braid and now stuck to her neck. Her legs burned. Her head spun. The world raced around her.

_Then, she was on her back. _

An alien monster was on top of her, its teeth bared like fangs. Its back legs dug into her sides, sending a flare of pain through her – stealing the breath from her lungs, sending black spots dancing across her vision, making the world around her fade completely. Black sludge dripped from _somewhere _onto her face. 

She struggled against the ground. Rubble dug into her back. Panic engulfed her.

_She couldn’t kick up. _Her legs flailed below her, kicking rocks and dust into the air. Her hands were gripping the face of the monster, trying to keep its long teeth away from her face. As the seconds ticked by, the alien grew closer and closer and – _oh god she could feel its breath on her face. _Her arms were shaking, she couldn’t see, she couldn’t breathe.

Clarke was convinced she was going to die.

She was going to die, she was going to die, she was going to–

_The monster was thrown from her. _

Black blood rained down on her as the beast was thrown to the ground feet away, an arrow embedded in its neck. She gasped for breath and shot at it for good measure. Her heart pounded so hard that it felt like her chest was going to rip in two.

“I got your back, Griffin.” The voice came from Bellamy over their comms. 

When she looked in the direction the arrow came from, she could see him on top of a roof of a nearby office building. From across the battlefield, they locked eyes.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Us mortals have to stick together, huh?”

Even though she was covered in alien blood, she let out a breathless laugh. “Right. Together.”

_It was a promise._

* * *

**SPACE. 2023.**

Now, eleven years later, that promise was long forgotten. 

“We’ll be approaching in an hour,” Bellamy said, shattering the heavy silence. He leaned away from the monitor, his hand coming up to comb through his hair. “Rest up. We don’t know what we’re getting in to.”

“It’s a long way from New York,” she commented, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. Her heart skipped a beat when the corners of his mouth quirked up.

“Oh, really?” he asked, his tone teasing. “Never thought we’d end up here? I always predicted we’d be flying in a spaceship across _the universe _to go find a magic rock from an unknown planet so we can bring half of the universe back to life.”

“Nope, I definitely predicted it,” she said, playing along. “Ever since the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D introduced us. I saw you and I thought _this is the man I’ll be travelling across the universe with._”

The words left a heavy silence between. Her heart was racing in her chest at her joke because _it wasn’t really a joke. _After that first mission together, she always thought they’d be by each other’s sides. 

She thought it would always be them against the world.

(<strike>Universe</strike>.)

Clarke was desperate to say something else, to ease the tension that was building between them. 

_Four years. _It had been four years since they last saw each other. The last time they were together, he was begging her to stay. Maybe tension was going to be hard to escape.

_It was killing her though. _She wished the heaviness would shatter as easily as the trust between them did. 

Years ago, she could take one look at him and know what he was thinking. She knew him better than she knew anyone else in the world – and she trusted him more, too.

Now, they were practically strangers. 

Not only did it make her heart ache, but it was dangerous. They were teammates; they had to have each other’s backs. 

He was right earlier – they didn’t know the dangers that lay ahead. They were the two chosen for this mission because they used to work well together – they used to move together like they were one.

_Used to._

Clarke swallowed thickly and looked away from Bellamy. The frustration and heartbreak welling up inside her was not his fault. 

_It wasn’t anyone’s fault except her own._

* * *

**EARTH. 2014.**

The invasion in New York was the first time they met, but it wasn’t the last time they fought together. They were teammates now – all of them.

_The scientist. The billionaire. The war hero. The Norse god. _And the two mortals with projectile weapons and good aim.

They were Earth’s defenders and Clarke would never be able to figure out how she managed to be put on that team. She used to be a spy, an assassin, a person to be feared. 

_Until she wasn’t._

That was one thing her and Bellamy bonded over. _How in the hell did they – two mortals – end up on a team of superheroes? _How were they Earth’s first line of defence against extra-terrestrial attacks?

They never did figure out the answer to that question.

The Avengers, as they went on to be called, were based out of New York. Within weeks of saving New York (<strike>the world</strike>), they were moved into the Avengers Tower. The team lived there for a few years, until things fell sideways.

_It was a nice few years._

Clarke had the floor above Bellamy’s, and the Norse god had the floor above hers. They all fell into an easy routine.

Bellamy would make breakfast with the war hero every morning while Clarke would debrief with S.H.I.E.L.D operatives and scout possible new missions. 

The whole team would eat together, which, looking back on it, was entirely too domestic. She should’ve known it wouldn’t last forever.

(Nothing good ever lasted forever.)

They trained together. Most of the time, Bellamy would be her sparring partner, only because he was the only one other than Cap able to keep up with her.

They spent most of their time in the tower, and most of their time spent in the tower was spent together – in the library, in the gym, in the comms room. 

It was easy to be friends with Bellamy. If Clarke believed in such a thing, she would’ve claimed that their fates were intertwined; that they were soulmates.

_It was easy to fall in love with Bellamy._

It didn’t take her too long to figure out how _good _of a person he was. His curiosity was as bright as the stars. He wanted to do things right and be good. He always put people he cared about first – the humans on Earth, the team, and – before he joined S.H.I.E.L.D. – his family, too.

Bellamy was always doing his best to keep people happy, to keep people safe, to keep the world spinning. Every mistake he made, he carried with him. They were scars on his heart, seemingly reflecting the scars on his body.

Some days, the scars would burn like they were fresh. “I’m a monster,” he said one night, a glass of alcohol between his hands. 

The kitchen was pitch black except for the glowing numbers on the microwave. They were the only ones awake throughout the whole tower – except for maybe Stark, who she doubted ever slept.

She knew Bellamy’s story. It was similar to her own. He was a man used by people in power, trained to kill, manipulated to work for the wrong side. He killed more people than he could count – just like her.

Without hesitating, Clarke moved forward, her fingers brushing against his bare arm. She pushed her glass of alcohol to the side, focusing on the breaking man beside her.

“We’re all monsters in some way,” she said after a long moment.

His eyes slowly met hers. The intensity in them knocked the air from her lungs. She could _feel _the pain pouring from him, like it was coming from _her _chest, not his.

She grasped his arm and hoped that the simplicity of human touch would bring him the comfort that he needed. She knew how haunting the past could be. She wished that she could bare all his burdens so he wouldn’t have to.

_He was a good man. He didn’t deserve this._

“I’ve killed people,” he said, his voice broken. “People are dead because of me.”

“And people are _alive _because of you too,” she told him. “You were there in New York. Without you, do you think this city would be still standing?”

Bellamy’s lips twitched. “I’m just a guy with a few arrows. I’m sure New York would’ve still been saved without me.”

Clarke’s fingers curled into his arm. “_What about me? _Would I still be here?”

“Yes.”

_No._

She thought back to that first promise on the battlefield – their first promise of together. _He _was the one to notice she was out of her depth. _He _saved her during the Battle of New York. Out of everyone – out of all of the superheroes she fought alongside – he was the only one to rescue her.

_She told him exactly that._

“Maybe you’re just a guy with a few arrows, _but you saved my life, Bell. _Without you, I wouldn’t be here – and I was on the field beside _Captain Fucking America. _You were the one to save my life – not him, a super-solider – not Banner, a humanoid creature – not Stark, the man with a suit of armour. You, Bellamy.” She let go of his arm and allowed her hand to move towards his. When her fingers touched the palm of his hand, his eyes flew open. “Maybe New York would still be standing without you, but I wouldn’t be.”

Her fingers fit perfectly with his. For a brief moment, she wondered if she crossed a line by reaching for his hand when he stiffened. When he seemed to melt into her side and grip her right back, she felt something settle inside her.

_This was right._

“We’re both monsters,” she said after a moment. “You know who I am. You’ve read my file.”

_Wanheda. _The infamous spy. The deadly assassin. She was the Commander of Death. Wherever she went, bodies were left behind. She killed more than hundreds of people – innocent people, too.

Bellamy’s smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. “And yet here we are.”

“Here we are. Two mass murderers, now fighting alongside Earth’s mightiest heroes.”

Bellamy’s head came to rest on her shoulder, his body slumping forward from exhaustion and emotion. 

She didn’t let go of his hand that night.

* * *

**SPACE. 2023.**

That night in the kitchen, Clarke never would’ve imagined that she’d know what it would be like to kiss the man who was once her best friend – what it would be like to love him.

She didn’t know how much time had passed since they spoke, but her arm was falling asleep from resting her chin on it. She stretched and glanced at Bellamy out of the corner of her eye.

He was still staring blankly out the window. She wondered if he ever came to terms with his mistakes – if he ever embraced the monster inside of him like Banner did. She doubted it. She knew him – it was never easy for him to sleep at night.

_He’d always dream of their faces. _She did too. She remembered all of the faces of the people she killed, even if she forgot their names. Their eyes were like scars on her heart.

She hated the silence. She wished that they could’ve slipped back into what they used to have. When she got the call to come back to the team for one more mission, she _hoped _that they’d just return to where they were.

Light words, easy conversations – it seemed like they were long past that.

To break the silence, she spoke. “I went to Japan.” Bellamy’s eyes were locked out the window and hers were locked on him. It felt like she was watching someone through glass – like she was sitting beside a stranger, not a teammate, and definitely not a friend. She fought to keep her voice steady. “And Greece.”

“Hm.” He let out a tiny sound of acknowledgement, but made no move to carry on the conversation.

She fell silent, unsure of what to do and what to talk about.

_Four years was a long time._

Clarke’s gaze drifted to the glowing controls by Bellamy. Her heart was aching, and she found herself questioning _why._

_You left, remember? _she questioned herself. _You were the one to step away. You were the one to stay away._

It hurt. It hurt to sit beside him and see a stranger. It hurt to sit beside him and not understand him.

“I went to Greece, too,” he said, startling her. Her eyes snapped back to him. His gaze was intense and it felt like he was looking _into her. _She swallowed her shock. “Last year, in June.”

“I went in two years ago in July. Was it everything you hoped it would be?”

When he smiled, it reached his eyes. She knew this smile. It was genuine and _deep_.

It had been a while since she had seen it.

“It was everything and more.” 

There was a spark in his eye that wasn’t there only moments before. For a moment, it felt like the four years melted away into nothing. He talked about monuments he saw, places he visited, people he met. His ease reminded her of all the nights they stayed up talking.

And—

_And, it felt normal._

Maybe time didn’t matter after all.

“God, I almost forgot how passionate you are,” Clarke breathed when the conversation lulled. 

It was a lie — she doubted she would ever forget anything about Bellamy. Sometimes, when guilt and loneliness felt like it was crushing her, she swore she could still hear his voice.

“Do you remember all the nights we spent on the roof in the compound?” Clarke questioned. Her eyes were locked out the window of the ship, watching as the stars blurred together into milky streaks. “We’d watch the stars. I don’t think we ever could’ve imagined any of this.”

“No. We never imagined we were looking at distant worlds.” He was silent for a beat. “I’d tell you myths about the stars,” he remembered, his voice soft. “We’d haul the gym mats up to the roof and lay on them until the sun was coming up.”

Her heart lurched. She remembered. She remembered curling into his side, and wrapping the blankets around their shoulders, and falling asleep to the sound of his voice. She remembered waking up to soft kisses along her face and gentle hands along her waist. She remembered how Bellamy’s voice filled with passion and excitement, and how he dreamed of things bigger than him, and how she loved him for it all.

_‘Can you wish on this kind of shooting star?’ It was something they said to each other years ago and she was tempted to say it again._

She didn’t.

Clarke shifted in her seat and planted her hands on the metal console in front of her. She ached for something to ground her — to remind her that _everything was different now._

Everything from before — all of the memories — were just that.

_Memories._

* * *

**EARTH. 2015.**

Clarke was fighting alongside her teammates in Johannesburg, trying to prevent Ultron from obtaining the vibranium he needed to build an army. It would’ve been a fairly easy task, if it weren’t for the sudden appearance of two new superhumans.

She clutched a stun baton in both her hands and her breath came out in small gasps. Her back was pressed against a wall and she strained her ears to pick up on any movement in the building.

_Nothing. _She couldn’t hear anything around her. Somehow, that made her even more terrified.

“Status update.” The communication system in her ear was distorted with static – most likely from being so far underground. Still, she could decipher Cap’s request.

“Nothing on the lower level,” she responded. 

Her eyes swept the dark halls around her, trying to pick up on _anything. _Not knowing what was going on was worse than being in the centre of the chaos. If she was in the middle of the fight, she’d be in control of her destiny, at least.

“The fast one is headed towards you, Cap.” That was Bellamy’s voice, even more distorted than their leader’s. “Every arrow I shoot at him, he knows where to move to avoid it.” 

“Got it,” Cap responded. The comms fell silent again, leaving Clarke alone. 

Her breathing was too loud. She could hear the faint drip of water coming from somewhere to her left. A creak of metal caused the hair along her neck to stand on edge.

“Thor? Status?”

“The girl tried to warp my mind.” Clarke swallowed thickly and her heart jumped to her throat. “Take special care. A mere mortal won’t be able to keep her at bay.”

Her grip tightened on her batons and she clenched her eyes shut. Her heart was racing and blood was rushing through her ears.

_Calm down. Focus. _She strained to hear any movements around her. They needed to complete the mission and detain the superhumans. They needed—

“Thor? Do you copy?”

Cap’s voice crackled over the comms and it broke Clarke’ concentration. She swore under her breath. The Norse god wasn’t responding to Cap’s urgent calls and she had a bad feeling growing in her stomach.

_Mind control._

“Shit,” she swore. Clarke pushed off the wall and began to rush forward. If these superhumans had the ability to control their minds, they needed to be together. In that moment, all she could think about was getting to her teammates before anything happened.

_Where were her teammates? _Stark and Banner had already disappeared from the comms and – now – Thor had seemingly disappeared. If her suspicions were correct, he was under some sort of mind control.

Bellamy. She needed to get to Bellamy. 

Cap’s voice was getting harsher and harsher by the second. “Thor? Come in. Tho—”

_Nothing. _His voice had gone completely silent, leaving only static behind.

“Shit.” Bellamy’s voice was the only one remaining. Clarke felt a flood of relief when she heard him over the coms.

“Cap?” She pressed a finger to the earpiece. “Cap, come in?” _Nothing. _“Thor? Thor, we need you to respond.” _Nothing._

It was her and Bellamy left. The rest of the team had been taken out or were out of reach. _Two mortals with good aim. _How did it always come down to this?

As she raced up flights of stairs, she kept her eyes sharp. Nothing looked out of place. She couldn’t hear anyone around her – not Banner, not Thor, not Cap. She wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

“Bellamy?” she asked, her breath coming out in gasps. She was full on sprinting now, taking the stairs two at a time. “I need a location. I’m coming to you.”

“No,” his voice was quick to answer. “I was the last one to report a sighting. They’re around my location. Stay away, Clarke. I-” He let out a loud huff of air. “I’m coming to you. Send me GPS coordinates.”

She continued racing towards his last reported location, not giving a damn of his request. There wasn’t anything in this world that was going to keep her away from him. As she raced up the staircase, she pressed a button on the pad attached to her forearm, sending her location to the team.

The staircase was empty and her footsteps echoed around the bare walls. Her suit felt tight around her throat. The knives felt heavy on her hips. The baton felt loose in her grip.

“Listen, I-”

Just as quick as it was there, it was gone.

_The world tipped around her, instantly changing; the stairs under her feet slowly faded to grass, the walls disappeared, the florescent lights melted away to silver moonlight. Clarke stumbled forward, suddenly thrown off balance._

_She landed on the ground with a jarring thud, all the breath in her lungs being knocked away. The ground was wet from a recent rain and the water seeped into her knees._

_The night air was crisp and goosebumps immediately erupted across her skin. In the distance, she could hear chanting._

_She knew this place. She knew this night. It was one she tried not to think of often, but she could still remember the smell of the forest and she could still hear the cries of his family._

_This wasn’t a new place. _

_This was a memory._

_She gasped for breath and clamoured up. The world around her spun once again, seemingly bringing a different piece of her memory forward. Her head spun. Her heart was beating erratically._

_She could see herself now, just a few feet away. Clarke recognized herself from when she was merely 17-years-old, from the night she first became Wanheda. She was covered in mud and surrounded by enemies. _

_She didn’t have to move closer to know what was happening. She knew a knife was shoved up her sleeve. She knew her first love was tied to a pole, only feet in front of her. She knew what was happening. _

_She knew._

_Oh, god._

_She was forced to watch a past version of herself commit something that started her on the path to becoming the monster she was today. She was being forced to relive her worst memory._

_Clarke fell to her knees, hopeless and drained. She was going to have to watch herself kill her Finn._

_The world spun again, but she didn’t stumble this time. It felt like she was floating outside of her body, like she was distant to the world around her._

_When the world steadied before her, she wasn’t kneeling in the grass anymore. She was standing where the 17-year-old Clarke had been standing only moments before, a bloody knife clutched in her hand._

_Clarke’s eyes widened. She wasn’t watching anymore. _

_She was reliving the memory first hand._

_Her eyes snapped forward and she felt like she was going to get sick. Finn’s head was slumped forward and his blue shirt stained dark. Blood seeping from the wound in his chest, spreading rapidly towards his torso._

_No. _

_No, no, no._

_Whispers filled her ears. “Wanheda.”_

_Wanheda._

_Her hands were warm with blood. She could feel it running down her forearms, trickling down her elbow. The knife in her hand glinted in the moonlight and her reflection stared back at her._

_Her eyes were sunken. Her lips were split. Mud caked her skin. Her hair was tangled and darkened from the battles she fought in. _

_Murderer. Assassin. Wanheda._

_Monster. Monster. Monst—_

“Clarke!”

_She was covered in blood – more than just up to her elbows. She could drown in it if she wanted to. Her father, Finn, her mother, her friends, all the innocents, all the criminals._

_People were dead because of her. People died when she was in charge. People died when she loved them. _

_Wanheda, the Commander of Death._

_Wan—_

“Clarke!”

Her eyes flew open and she sucked in a quick breath. Her vision swam, but she could distinctly make out the silhouette of someone hovering above her. Their curly brown hair was unmistakable.

_Bellamy._

Her heart pounded in her chest and she struggled to regain her breath. It felt like she was suffocating – from the memories, from the panic, from the emotions.

_Guilt. Regret. Self-loathing. Pain. Grief. Anger. Shame. Loneliness. _

It felt like she was hurdling off the edge of a cliff. 

She was lost. 

_Where was she? Who was she?_

(Murderer. Assassin. Wanheda.)

She’d never felt this terrified before. She felt like she was a stranger to her own mind, a stranger to her own life. 

“Can you hear me?” Bellamy was coming into focus now. She desperately clung to him, suddenly too afraid to let go. Her fingers grasped at his upper arms and her eyes searched for his.

_There. _His brown eyes locked on hers and the room stopped spinning. Reality began to seep back into her. The horrors from the mind control began to creep back to the darkest corners of her mind.

“You’re okay,” he promised. 

It was the first time that she noticed that he was holding her, too. His arms were wrapped around her back, pulling her body towards his chest. His hand was on her cheek, brushing pieces of her hair away from her eyes.

It felt nearly impossible to speak; her tongue felt heavy, her mouth felt dry, her throat felt raw. Still, she tried. “Bellamy.”

As she spoke his name, he let out a broken sob. He seemed to be overtaken by exhaustion or relief or both in that moment. His eyes fluttered closed and his head moved forward, his forehead resting against hers.

“I’m here,” he promised her with a shaking voice. She could feel him shaking above her. Without a second thought, Clarke lifted her one hand to cup the side of his cheek, hoping it would bring him a fraction of the comfort that his touch brought her.

It was in this moment that she realized just how terrified he was. He was shaking and damn near tears. He was holding her with a desperation only matched by her own. His voice was raw, like he had spent the last minute screaming.

It was also in this moment that she realized just how much she loved him. Seeing his eyes and hearing his voice managed to calm the swirling realities. Being beside him brought her back from whatever place the superhuman sent her to. _It was like he was her guide home. _It was his voice that cut through the fog, it was his eyes that steadied the room, his was his touch that calmed her racing heart. He was the reason reality seemed to click back into place.

It was him.

_Oh, fuck. _

She didn’t just love him. 

_She was in love with him._

This realization didn’t shock her as much as she thought it should’ve. In a way, this was the most normal thing in her life for as long as she could remember.

He was her best friend and had been for years. She loved every inch of him and every corner of his mind. She loved how compassionate, caring, and kind he was. He looked at the world and saw the good in it, even though they’d both seen the horrors within. He fought for what was right with everything in him. 

He’d been beside her through everything; through all the rough nights, through all the battles, through all the training. _He’d been there though all the good and bad._

When she thought of home, she didn’t think about the Avengers Tower – she thought of him. 

The realization came with a sense of peace that filled her chest.

“I thought I lost you,” he admitted, his face still only inches away from hers.

Her gaze fell to his lips. With each breath he took, she could feel it against her skin.

“You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.” She brushed his cheek with her thumb, a wave of affection filling her chest. “I…” She swallowed thickly and lifted her eyes to meet his. 

“I love you, Clarke,” he said, his voice a whisper.

She froze with his admission. The world seemed to fade away in that moment – she couldn’t feel the cool metal stairs pressed against her back, she didn’t feel the throbbing pain coming from her forehead, she didn’t think twice about Ultron or the superhumans.

_It was just them._

Clarke let out a tiny laugh, bliss filling her. _He was her home; her best friend; the head to her heart; the man she loved._

“I love you, too,” she said, her voice cracking from the sheer emotion of it.

Then, they were both moving forward, closing the small gap between them. Their lips connected with such tenderness that her heart felt like it was going to split in two. He was holding her tightly with one arm, while his other hand cupped her cheek gently. She couldn’t get enough of him. _She loved him. _She—

“Glad you two love birds finally figured it out.” Stark’s bored voice came through their comms. “Hopefully you two are keeping it clean for the kids because… Well, we have a situation.”

***

Later that evening, they found themselves alone at a safe house. The rest of the team were nursing their wounds in their own spaces, which, thankfully, gave them time alone.

She was tucked into his side, her fingers curled against her father’s watch on her arm. 

“What did you see?”

_She told him._

The blood, the death, the bodies of her victims, the bodies of the people she couldn’t save, the rise of Wanheda.

“You once told me that you’re a monster,” she recalled. She couldn’t look at him in the eye. “We both know the truth; I’m the real monster. People around me always die.” She lifted her left hand slightly, gesturing to the watch on it. “Even before I became Wanheda, people around me died.”

“Who?” he asked after a moment.

She smiled despite the grief that overwhelmed her. “My father. He died when I was a teenager, a few years before Wanheda was born.” Clarke turned to glance at Bellamy. “He loved me, and he died. My mother loved me, and she died not long after. Finn – the boy in my vision – he loved me, and he died.” She didn’t bother holding back the tears. She was consumed with grief and pain. “Everyone who loves me eventually dies, Bellamy.”

_Don’t love me. Save yourself. You’ll only end up dead if you continue._

“I still love you,” he promised her, as if he could read her mind. “You don’t have a curse, Clarke. You’re not the reason those people are dead. _You aren’t._” She didn’t believe him. “You’ve lived an unfair life. You didn’t kill them. They didn’t die because of you.”

She wiped her tears away, frustration bubbling inside of her. “And what about all the others? Those are just three bodies out of the hundreds I’ve killed.” She choked on her sobs. “Maybe my parents didn’t die because of me, but Finn did. Hundreds of others did, too. My name is Wanheda for a reason.”

“Your name is Clarke Griffin,” he told her. His gentle crease of her cheek kept her grounded. “You are not the Commander of Death, Clarke. _You’re human, just like me. _We’ve made a lot of mistakes – it's true – but that doesn’t mean you’re Wanheda, and it doesn’t mean you have a curse.”

She locked eyes with him. “Take it back while you still can.”

“_I still love you. _I always will.”

It was another promise that was broken.

* * *

**SPACE. 2023.**

Clarke’s heart ached as she remembered those simpler times. They were already dealing with superhumans, and magic metal, and mystic rocks, and aliens – how could it get messier than that?

The Accords were developed a few years later, the team split, and they lost friends. A Titan with a skewed sense of reality came, they fought with everything they had, and they lost. Half of the population of all living things vanished, the universe descended into chaos, and she went on a self-destructive path.

Even when they were dealing with superhumans and aliens, life was simpler, and she wished that she realized it before it was gone. 

_Before she ruined it._

Clarke glanced at Bellamy out of the corner of her eye. His shoulders weren’t as tense as they once were, but she could still sense his unease. After all this time, she could still read him – maybe not as well as she could, but she still understood him.

It had been a clean break. In January of 2019, things ended – or, rather, she ended things. 

She thought it would be easier to get over if she left and never came back, never returned his calls, never returned back to base. 

That was what it was like in the operating room; the clean breaks were always easier to heal than the multiple fractures.

_It wasn’t easy to say goodbye. _He was her family and she loved him long before she was _in _love with him.

But they lost. _They dealt with that in different ways._

Miraculously, they were part of the population to survive – all of the original team. 

Thor was the first to leave. He needed to get out, he needed to find some peace in the world after losing so much. His way of moving on meant running away. 

Stark was the next to leave. He wanted a clean start – one that involved moving on from all the trauma, all the death, all the mistakes. His way of moving on meant starting a family of his own – a wife, a kid.

Then there was Banner. He locked himself in a gamma chamber for months on end, trying to run away from two sources of guilt and regret. His way of moving on meant pushing himself to become a bigger challenge for the next threat.

_It was her turn after that._

She remembered how the hours stretched to days, and how the days stretched into weeks, and how the weeks stretched into months after the Decimation. There had been a giant hole in her gut, guilt had rooted into her bones, and the feeling of being a failure had made a home in the back of her mind.

_She was a mess. _

They lost and the world paid the price. Cars littered the roads, abandoned and burning. Every step she took resulted her stepping in ashes. She heard cries of abandoned animals in their homes, their owners never returning. 

She saw more people _lost _than people with purposes.

There were more orphans in the world than before. Animal populations were impacted, meaning ecosystems were tipping out of balance. 

_Things didn’t get better._

She volunteered a lot, hoping that would help. She wasn’t interested in easing the guilt in her stomach – no, she’d _always _bear that guilt, no matter what – but she was interested in helping people. 

She needed to help people. 

It helped, but not enough.

She spent her days with children without parents, and freshly widowed women, and lost men, and parents missing their family, and friends that were suddenly alone in the world. She’d spend her days with broken humans that lost _everything, _only to go home to happiness.

_She was lucky. _Sure, she lost things in the Decimation, but the things that remained far outweighed what was lost.

She got to go home to Bellamy every evening, and wake up beside him every morning. That alone was enough to make her feel like she was a monster.

_Why did the Decimation leave her, but take others? _

Her – an assassin, a person with more blood on her hands than could be quantified, an Avenger who failed to protect the Earth.

_Why did children die, but she was left behind? _

Her – someone who didn’t deserve a happy ending, especially not more than innocent children.

For months, she felt lost. She couldn’t figure out why she was left behind. She felt guilty that her life could’ve gone relatively unchanged – she didn’t lose the man she loved, most of her friends were still around, her job was needed more than ever.

It felt like she was untouched by the snap, and she decided that she was one of the people most deserving of being impacted by it.

It wasn’t fair that the Decimation didn’t touch her. It wasn’t fair because _she _was part of the reason the rest of the universe had to suffer. 

She’d killed hundreds of people, yet she was one that was left behind to survive and – what – live a happy life?

She couldn’t do it.

She ran.

She couldn’t live with the fact that she could return to her nearly-perfect life while the rest of the universe was descending into chaos. She couldn’t deal with the fact that she could be happy, but billions upon billions of others were grieving.

_Clarke self-destructed._

She left her home, her friends, her family, Bellamy. _Everything she knew, she left behind._

She started running and never stopped.

For a while, it took the pain away. She did as much as she could where she went. Being busy distracted her from the loss and the guilt. 

“Do you ever wish you could go back and make a different choice?” Clarke asked, breaking the silence that encased them. 

Maybe that was their new thing – silence. Forget ‘together,’ forget ‘always;’ being too scared and unsure to speak was it.

Bellamy didn’t look away from the window. She could see his back stiffen. “Of course.”

She chewed on her lip and watched him out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t know where her outburst had come from. Maybe it had been brewing for the last few hours. Maybe it had been brewing for the last four years.

_That seemed more likely._

He surprised her by speaking more. “There’s a lot of things I regret.”

_Like us._

It was unspoken, but she could feel the words hanging in the air.

She shifted uneasily and turned her attention back to the window. “Yeah. Me too.” She wanted to cry at how tense this conversation was. _What happened? _“What’s one thing you regret?”

Bellamy froze. “What?”

She hoped she didn’t cross a line. “I asked you what was one thing you regret. What is one choice that you wish you made differently?” 

He blew out a long breath and fell silent. He was quiet for such a long time, she was half convinced he wasn’t going to say anything.

Finally, he spoke. “Can we not talk about this? I want to focus on the mission.”

Her throat constricted and her heart turned to ashes.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry for everything.”

She wasn’t sorry for bringing it up, nor for making him uncomfortable. They used to be friends. They used to love each other. She wasn’t sorry for trying to bridge this chasm between them, especially not before this mission.

_She was sorry about what happened before._

“Don’t,” Bellamy warned, his voice strained.

“I’m sorry for leaving. And, even before I left, I’m sorry for doing this to us. I ended our relationship long before I left you, and I’m sorry for putting you through that. You didn’t deserve it.”

He didn’t deserve a lot of what she put him through.

She watched him closely. He refused to look in her direction. His jaw rippled.

“You were in a bad place,” he managed to say. “It’s fine. I moved on.”

“We were _both _in bad places,” she said. Fuck. Her voice cracked at the end of her sentence. She hadn’t realized she was going to get so emotional about it. “I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve been a better friend. I… I closed you out, I abandoned you.”

“I moved on,” he insisted, his voice rougher. It was clear; he wanted this conversation to be over.

But, the floodgates were open.

She couldn’t stop talking.

“I know I fucked things up with us, and I’m sorry. If I had to pick one thing that I regret, it would be hurting you, Bellamy. I never wanted that to happen, but I _know _I did. I know it was my fault, and I take responsibility for it, but _I wish I could go back in time and change it._” 

“I don’t,” Bellamy snapped. His eyes were sharp. The familiarity she found only moments before, when they were talking about the sky, had disappeared, leaving a stranger behind. She sucked in a quick breath. “We broke up for a reason. We weren’t meant to be. We weren’t in love.”

She tried to pretend his words didn’t rip out her heart, but _they hurt. _

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” she insisted. Clarke wiped away her tears with shaking hands. Fuck, when did she start crying? “Even if you’re right – even if we were never meant to be – I’m still sorry for doing that to you.”

Bellamy studied her face. She was overwhelmed by feeling like she didn’t know him. She couldn’t read his face, she couldn’t predict what he was thinking, she didn’t know what he was thinking.

He was a stranger.

She pushed the console away from her and stood up abruptly, the need to _run away _crashing against her like the ocean crashed against the shore. Her head spun, her heart raced, her chest hurt.

Get out. She needed to get out.

“Clarke?” Bellamy’s hands were on her bicep, steadying her. She stumbled away from him, stepping out of his arms.

“Never mind,” she said quickly. She couldn’t look at him as she stumbled away. “Forget it.”

As she stumbled towards the back of the ship, she couldn’t take her mind off the way his hands still felt like home. She shut the door to the back room and let her shoulders shake with sobs.

* * *

**EARTH. 2016.**

Clarke felt broken. This wasn’t her first battle and it wasn’t her most brutal one – not by a long shot. No blood was spilt, nobody died, the world was still in one piece – that was all true.

_But those were her friends._

The people she stood against used to be her friends – they used to be her teammates.

She still remembered standing shoulder to shoulder with Cap in New York, and cooking breakfast with him, and training with him. Now, all she could think about was him _running at them, _a shield on his arm, anger and fire in his eyes. 

She remembered training with Wanda, too, when she first joined the team. She remembered helping her integrate into the family. Now, all she could think about was her throwing her onto her back, using all of her known weaknesses against her.

It was their own civil war. The team fractured. Even though she stood beside Stark in the battle, she could tell things were different. He was hurt. She was confused. She could tell Bellamy was broken too, even as he stood beside her, but he hid it behind a well-worn mask.

Even beyond raw emotions, things weren’t good. The Accords were something she didn’t exactly agree with – she doubted any of them _actually _agreed with them – but they held onto them to keep what they were. They agreed to them to keep the team together.

_To keep their family together._

That worked out well. Clearly. Half the team was locked away by the government, Cap and the Winter Solider were still missing, Stark had taken off, their half of the team was fractured in ways she couldn’t begin to explain.

_Mentally. Physically. Emotionally._

They were all broken.

Her hair was still damp from her shower and her body had a bone-deep ache. She couldn’t tell if it was from the heartbreak and betrayal coursing through her, or if it was because Wanda threw her into a plane.

It felt like she was drowning in her thoughts. She kept thinking of losing all of her friends. She kept thinking of this fucked up future they were living in. She kept thinking about how _nothing was going to be the same._

Her fingers curled around the sheets on her bed, suddenly desperate to be grounded by something.

_It wasn’t enough._

Without hesitating, she pushed off her bed and left her room. The hallway felt emptier. Just the fact that half of the team was now gone made it feel like ghosts were wondering.

She tried to ignore it as she walked across the hall. All she knew was that she needed to be by him; she needed to be by someone who _wasn’t _going to be changing.

Clarke rapped her knuckles against Bellamy’s door, but didn’t wait for him to let her in. She slipped into his room and could her shoulders instantly relaxed when she saw him.

He was standing in the frame to his bathroom, a towel bunched over his shoulders. His hair was still damp from his shower.

They locked eyes and an understanding passed between the both of them. Clarke felt herself start to crack_. _She was terrified and hurt.

_She understood he was too. _She could sense it in him; she could see it in the way his shoulders were hunched, and the way his expression looked exhausted, and the way his eyes seemed to belong to someone that carried a few more ghosts than earlier that morning.

They were both silent as they stood in front of each other. 

It felt like she was baring her soul to him. She wasn’t wearing the same mask that she wore in the public or in the press, and not even with the rest of the team; it was a vulnerability that she only had with him.

She felt the walls crashing down, the masks slipping off, the numbness fading into something much more haunting.

_He was the only one she could do this with. _He was the only one she could be human around – the only one where she could fall to pieces with. 

He was the only one who truly understood.

Slowly, reality was catching up with her. 

The sorrow, the betrayal, the glass in her soul. 

For the first time in days, she felt like it was _okay _to fall apart. She knew she was safe with him. She knew he’d fall apart with her. She knew that he’d be by her side no matter what – like he’d always been, like they’d promised all those years ago.

Because, despite all the changes and the betrayal and the loss, she knew she’d always have Bellamy.

_He was her safe place. He was her home._

Her throat was tight when she spoke. “Things will never be the same.”

His eyes never left hers. She was overwhelmed with the love and tenderness they held. “That’s okay,” he promised her. “We’ll be together. We’ll be okay.”

She choked on a sob and moved forward, needing to be in his arms. He met her in the middle and clung to her as tightly as she clung to him. She was afraid that if she let him go, he’d leave her too.

Almost like he could read her mind, he said, “I’m not going anywhere, Clarke. That’s a promise.”

She whispered the same words back to him.

_I’m here. I love you. I’m not leaving you – not now, not ever. I promise._

<strike>It was another promise that was broken.</strike>

They held each other as they sobbed. They cried for the broken team. They cried from the betrayal weighing on their shoulders. They cried because nothing would ever be the same.

She fell asleep in his arms that night, content with the fact that, no matter how the team changed, or how the missions turned, or how the world shifted against them, they’d always have each other.

* * *

**SPACE. 2023.**

She felt like her life was filled with broken promise after broken promise.

(<strike>All broken by her</strike>.)

All those years ago, after Cap abandoned them and the world had turned against the Avengers, she wasn’t sure what was going to change. All she knew was that Bellamy would always be beside her – as a lover, as a friend, as a teammate.

_She was wrong._

(<strike>It was her fault. She pushed him away</strike>.)

And now, again, she pushed him away. She was overwhelmed by the fact she didn’t know him like she used to. Logically, it made sense – of course she didn’t know him like she did all those years ago. 

She left. 

They changed. 

Still, she couldn’t stop her chest from aching. The pain of losing him – of leaving him – felt like a fresh wound. It felt like a half-healed scar had been torn back open; stitches be damned.

“Clarke?”

Dammit. Of course, he would’ve followed her after she ran out. That was a _Bellamy _thing to do; always worry about others, no matter who they were or the situation.

Clarke put more of her weight against the door. The room she managed to stumble into was used for storage and was filled with wooden crates attached to the walls. A longer crate was chained to the floor only a few feet away from her, making the room feel smaller than it was. It felt like everything was caving in around her.

_She was suffocating._

“I’m fine,” she insisted. _She was a liar. _Her voice cracked with emotion and she cursed herself. “Really. Just… Go away.”

_Go away. Leave me like I left you._

It felt fitting.

She could hear him on the other side of the door. The door handle jiggled and she clamped down on it.

“I’m serious,” she said. “Go away, Bellamy.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he insisted. His determination only made her sob harder. She didn’t deserve this. She abandoned him. She hurt him. He should hate her. She’d feel better if he hated her. “Open the door, Clarke.”

His palms pressed against the opposite side of the door than where her head was resting. She could _feel him _beyond the metal.

“Please. Just open the door.”

Maybe it was because she wasn’t thinking clearly, or maybe it was because she was desperate, but she opened the door.

Bellamy remained in the threshold of the doorway, his hands braced on either side of the doorframe. She studied his face closely, looking for any whispers of the man she once knew. She recognized every line and every freckle on his face. She recognized the depth of his eyes, and all the emotions they held.

The breath caught in her chest. It felt like she’d been punched in the gut.

“Are you okay?” He shifted forward, his right hand leaving the doorframe to reach for her. When she was sure his hand would move to cup her face like he used to, he paused, and his hand dropped to his side.

She could see the slight twist in his expression, like he remembered where they were and who he was with.

“No, I’m not okay.” She brushed the tears off her face and turned away from him. “We’re flying in an alien ship towards a distant planet so we can collect a magic stone. Like, what the actual fuck, Bellamy?” She braced her hands on the wooden crate and sucked in a few deep breaths.

“We both know that isn’t it,” he said, his voice accusing. “You aren’t this upset over this mission.”

She snapped.

“Of fucking course not!” She whirled around to face him, her eyes burning with intensity. “It’s us, Bellamy!” She was sobbing now. “I haven’t seen you in _years_, and I barely know you. I used to love you, and you used to love me, and– and _of fucking course it’s us, Bellamy? _How–”

His lips crashed against hers.

Her hands flew behind her, grasping onto the wooden crate to steady herself. Her heart was racing and she was frozen with shock, unable to breathe, unable to think.

The kiss was brief. He pulled away from her, his pupils blown and his expression wrecked. He looked as shocked as she felt. 

“Sorry,” he said quickly, taking a step back. “I just– I–”

She moved forward, her resistance evaporating like water in fire.

Their lips pressed together again, this time with more fire. Clarke’s hands locked on his bicep, her fingers digging into his shirt. His hands wound around her waist, dragging both of their bodies flush together.

When they fell back together, it was almost like fragments from their shattered pasts fell back together, too. 

The kiss was frantic and desperate. His lips were on her teeth, sending wave after wave of want to her stomach. Her hands moved along his bicep and around his shoulders, grasping at whatever she could. His hands moved up from her waist, gripping her sides in ways that made her body come alight with fire.

She wanted him. She wanted to worship him, to kiss every inch of him, to feel him kiss every inch of her. 

She wanted to make up for lost time.

A shudder went up her spine when his hands tightened on her side. Their lips parted the slightest bit with her gasp, and she arched her back. 

“Bell,” she sighed his name, her lips brushing against his. His name tasted so sweet – so right. She wished she could say it over and over again.

The back of her legs hit the crate again and his hands swooped lower, grabbing her thighs, and lifting her onto the wooden lid. Her legs automatically hooked around his hips and his groan was muffled against her mouth.

“Fuck,” he hissed. Her legs tightened and she threw her head back. Bellamy dipped down and pressed a hot kiss to her neck, biting in the exact spots that made her writhe. 

His hands were tugging at the hem of her shirt and she quickly helped him pull it up and over her head. She reached for his shirt next, throwing it thoughtlessly to the floor.

Her hands ran up his chest and she marvelled at each line and curve. He had new scars along his body and she desperately wanted to know the stories behind them.

“Clarke,” his groaned. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes dark, and _fuck, _he looked better than she ever remembered him looking.

Her lips found his again. Frantically. Hungrily. Wanting.

They were both a mess of hands, and teeth, and groans. He knew exactly where to touch, where to kiss, where to bite to make her spiral. He knew what she craved, what she needed. She knew the same with him too – she knew how to make him lose control, how to make him feel as good as he made her feel.

Clarke reached between them, her fingers wrapping around the buckle of his pants. All she could think about was how _good _he was making her feel, and how much she still loved him, and how much she _wanted him._

Fuck, she wanted him.

His mouth kissed her neck, and her hands were shaking, and _fuck _she _needed _him, right–

The ship rocked violently. 

They ripped apart instantly. It was shocking – one minute, they were nearly fused together, the next there was so much space between them that she could practically _see_ all the fractures in their relationship.

Clarke’s chest heaved and her mind spun. She blinked rapidly, attempting to clear haze from her mind. Reality smashed into her.

_Fuck._

They locked eyes.

She was sitting topless in front of Bellamy Blake. She had felt every inch of his body pressed into hers. His breath was hot on her face. The intensity and desire in his eyes made her breath hitch.

Kissing him made her feel like all those years had faded away; like they were just teenagers again; like they hadn’t suffered. 

Clarke felt like she was going to get sick. She didn’t regret the kiss – she doubted she’d ever regret kissing Bellamy – but she regretted fucking up their relationship even more.

_Relationship. _Like they had one to fuck up anyways. What they currently had was ghosts of a relationship, nothing more.

It was a long moment before either of them spoke.

“We’re descending,” he said, his voice hard again. “That was the atmosphere.” She blinked up at him, her mind still refusing to comprehend what was happening. 

He pushed stumbled backwards a few steps. The desire in his eyes was quickly morphing into shock and confusion. She sat up and couldn’t take her eyes off of him.

“Bell–”

He turned away from her. Her chest stung with a new wave of pain.

“Get dressed,” he said, bending down to pick up his own discarded shirt. “We have work to do.”

* * *

**EARTH. 2017.**

The year had been kind. After the Accords were signed and the Avengers (or, what _remained _of the Avengers) adjusted to the changes, things were going well.

The team might’ve been smaller than before, but she’d come to accept them as her new family. Her, Bellamy, and Stark were the only ones remaining from the original team, and, surprisingly, she’d come to accept that. And the new members were ones she started to see as her new family, too.

She trusted them. Trusting a team was something that she wasn’t sure she’d even be able to do again, especially after the betrayal during the civil war, but she was wrong.

That being said, there wasn’t a single person in their universe or the next that she trusted more than Bellamy. She loved him without a shadow of a doubt. He was the person that she turned to when hard decisions had to be made. He was the first person she went to when she had a rough day. He was the _only _person she’d turn to when the demons of her past seemed to catch up with her.

Beyond that, he was also the person that her gaze automatically sought when a joke was told because _his smile was the most beautiful thing. _She wanted to wake up every morning beside him. She wanted to be the one he turned to when _he _was having a hard day too because _she wanted to share his burdens. _She wanted to spend hours with him watching the clouds or reading in the library.

She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him – through all the good and all the bad.

“Have I told you that I love you today?” Bellamy asked, his lips pressed against the top of her head.

A smile spread across her lips. She didn’t know what time it was; all she knew was that she didn’t want to get out of bed. She’d be okay with spending forever laying beside him.

She sighed in content and moved her hand behind her head to cup his cheek. “Many times,” she mumbled, a blissful feeling overtaking her. “But I’ll happily hear it a million times over.”

She turned in bed, the wide grin never leaving her lips.

_Life was good. _Life was different than before. When the team first was brought together, it was all about being stronger for the next attack. It was about structure and constant improvements because _they had to be ready._

After losing half the team, that changed. The missions didn’t come when they found them – they came whenever the government decided they would. They trained less. Their days weren’t structured like before, and they weren’t focused on building themselves to be better during every second of the day.

If anything, the team became less of a team and more of individuals working and living together. Team activates were basically non-existent. Before things fell apart, she’d often walk in on _someone _cooking breakfast, or they’d all have a movie night, or they’d at least try to eat dinner together and coordinate schedules.

Now, they were all on their own. She saw her team members in passing in the halls. Sometimes, they’d accidentally decide to train at the same time, which was probably a good thing. Once, she bumped into Stark in the kitchen at three in the morning and they had a snack together.

_Yeah. _Life was different.

Even though they’d pulled apart as a team, she stuck with Bellamy. In fact, with everything else falling apart around them, they’d grown even closer. Every night, she’d fall asleep with him beside her, and every morning, he’d be there when she woke up. He was the only one she coordinated schedules with, and trained regularly with, and ate meals with.

Each day they’d spend together, she grew more and more sure that _he was it. _He was her soulmate, if they even existed. He was the love of her life in every way possible.

_She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him by her side._

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice low. His finger trailed over her cheekbone, brushing some of her hair behind her ear. 

“Life,” she responded, easily dismissing all the thoughts on her mind. She could tell he was thinking about something too – his forehead was creased and she could sense the tension in his body. It was her turn to brush her fingers through his hair. “What about you?” she asked, her voice quiet. “What are you thinking of?”

His smile was cheeky. “Life.”

She snorted and moved forward, resting her forehead against his body. His arm came up and wrapped around her shoulders.

_This was easy. _Being with him, being in love with him, being loved by him – it was _good, _and it was _normal, _and it felt like it was as easy as breathing. _This felt right._

His breath was warm on her skin and his lips were comforting. “I have something to ask to you about, actually.”

She smiled because she knew him well. She could tell something was on his mind.

“Of course.” She pulled back from his chest and met his gaze. “I’m all ears.”

He’d grown sombre in the moments she was pressed against him. Instantly, she did the same.

“Have you ever thought about the future?” he asked, his tone strained.

Her eyebrows pushed together. “Of course.” It was something she thought of often, and in every scenario, he was right there beside her.

“And… what do you see?” She could tell he was looking for something. The caution he was using told her that he was worried about this conversation, and that made her worried.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I never focus on the details. The future is constantly changing. Nothing is ever set in stone.” Clarke smiled softly and reached out for him. His fingers curled around her hand. “I see you, though. _Always, Bellamy. _In every future I want, you’re right there beside me.”

With her confession, he moved forward and captured her lips for a quick kiss. It made butterflies fill her stomach and her head spin. _He was amazing _and she loved him more than words could possibly say.

“I want you in my future, too,” he admitted. When he pulled back, the worry was still present. “What about the details?” Bellamy pressed.

She pulled back a bit more, feeling a little lost. “I don’t understand.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. He was nervous. “What do you see us doing?” He shifted a bit. “Do you… Do you see us doing this for the rest of our lives?”

_Oh._

“No.” She didn’t have to think about her answer. If she was being honest, this train of thought occurred to her more than a few times. “I don’t want to do this my whole life. I mean,” she smiled. “I love my job. Obviously. And I love the team, but…” She struggled to put it into words. “No, I don’t see me doing this for the rest of my life.” In a way, it almost felt like a betrayal to admit that out loud. She pushed that away. “You?”

Bellamy didn’t have to think either. “No. I don’t want to do this forever.” His eyes moved to stare at the ceiling. “In our line of work, we either die on duty, or we hang up our guns before we get to that point.”

Despite the situation, she snorted. “You’re telling me that being an Avenger means death is inevitable?”

He met her gaze again. “Yeah.”

Somehow, that made her grin a little wider. “When did you become such a pessimist?”

“I was born this way,” he assured her. He moved to his side so he could face her directly. “I don’t want to die here.”

His words knocked the breath out of her lungs.

“Neither do I,” she said, her voice quiet.

She loved protecting the world and the innocent lives that it contained, and she would be willing to give her life in a heartbeat to keep them safe, but _she didn’t want to die before she could live._

“We’ve been running our whole lives,” he said, his voice as soft as hers was. “We both know where we came from. We both know all the red in our ledgers. We spent the first half of our lives under people who didn’t care about us. We trained, we killed, we were taught to be monsters. The second half of our lives, we’ve been making up for that. We’ve been on this team, and we’ve found a family here but…”

“We’ve been fighting our whole lives,” she echoed.

He nodded. “Yeah. We have been.” His thumb swept over the back of her hand. “I don’t want to fight anymore. I want to find something more to life than fighting.”

_She wanted that too._

She wanted to put her gun down and not have to pick it up again. She didn’t want to keep killing – no matter how evil the person on the other end of her weapon was. She didn’t want to be Wanheda anymore, even if Bellamy promised her persona vanished a long time ago.

_She wanted to be human. _That’s what she was, wasn’t it? She was human. She wasn’t a super-soldier, she wasn’t a super-human, she didn’t have magic hands, or _infinity stones _in her genes.

_She was just Clarke. _And, even if she _was _a super-soldier or a super-human, didn’t they deserve to move on, too?

Nobody on the team asked for this. Didn’t they deserve to decide to live normal lives? Didn’t they all deserve to decide to give it up before they died?

(Because Bellamy was right. Nobody got out of this profession because they were fired. Death was the only other option.)

Clarke doubted she had been more sure about something before. “I want that too,” she said, her voice breathless. 

The team was drifting apart anyway. Cap and his teammates had long disappeared. Vision spent less and less time in the compound. Even Stark himself was building a family outside of the Avengers.

Maybe it was time they did the same. Maybe it was time they left the compound, set down their weapons, gave up their titles as Avengers. 

Maybe it was time to just be them – to just be Bellamy and Clarke.

“We can do it,” Bellamy said. “We can just go. You and me. Just the two of us.”

“Just the two of us.” It was a nice promise. It was one she had full intentions of keeping. “We could be normal. Human.”

His thumb swooped across the back of her hand again. There was something in his eyes that made something inside her shift.

“We could do whatever we wanted,” he continued. “We could get married. Have a family.”

_A family._

That was something she had never thought about before. 

_She wanted it._

Clarke bit her lip and nodded her head. A feeling of overwhelming _want _filled her.

_She wanted a life with Bellamy. _She wanted a life outside of killing and fighting. She wanted to be free with him, to have a family with him, to live a normal life with him.

“That’s our future,” she promised him. “Us; together; human. I want that. I _really _want that.”

Their lips met for a brief kiss – one that was filled with so much love and passion that it made her head spin.

When he pulled back, his chest was heaving. “I really want this, too,” he said, his voice breathless. “When do we tell the team?”

Not even that could put a damper on her mood. “Soon. After Stark’s wedding.” She couldn’t stop smiling. “I think it’s time we all moved on.”

* * *

**VORMIR. 2023.**

They never did tell the team. 

Less than a month later, Thanos attacked Earth and half of the universe’s population was wiped out.

Clarke wanted to regret not getting out sooner, but she couldn’t. Even if they left the team before the Decimation happened, she never would’ve been able to forgive herself for what happened. She never would’ve been guilt free. If anything, _not _fighting would’ve caused her _more _pain because she would’ve felt that she didn’t do enough to stop it.

At least this way, she tried her best. 

She sat beside Bellamy as the ship descended onto the ground of the hellish planet. The world looked like it was engulfed in fire, like it had been swallowed whole by a sun. The sky was a marbled mix of reds and purples. It would’ve looked beautiful if she wasn’t so distracted.

_Why did she kiss him?_

She let them fall back to old patterns. Weren’t they complicated enough already? Wasn’t there enough tension? Now, they were sitting in silence, this _weight _sitting on both of them.

Fuck her. Fuck this. Fuck everything.

Clarke wanted to scream with frustration or sob until her throat was raw. Before they kissed, things were already painful enough. Just being around him and feeling like strangers caused her chest to flare with hurt.

Now? Now, she couldn’t even look at him. She could still feel his hands along her body and his mouth along her neck. For strangers, they knew their way around each others bodies fantastically. 

She wanted to set things right. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was for abandoning him all those years ago. She wanted to tell him that it was her biggest regret in life. She wanted to tell him that she still loved him; that she thought about him nearly every day; that he was the reason she stayed grounded for so long.

It felt more impossible than a half hour ago. 

The ship bounce roughly as it touched down on the surface of the planet. The engine was whirling as it cooled and several lights flashed across the dashboard. 

She glanced at him, a lump lodged in her throat.

“Bellamy–”

“Stop,” he insisted. He didn’t turn to look at her. She could see the reflection of the red flashing lights in his eyes. “Just don’t, Clarke.”

“But–”

“No.” He turned to face her, his face emotionless. “It was a mistake, a lapse in judgement.” His words felt like glass in her skin. “We need to focus on the mission.”

“We should talk about it,” she insisted.

“There isn’t anything to talk about. It was a mistake. End of conversation.”

She struggled to maintain composure. The pain she felt in her chest rivaled the pain she felt the night she left him. She was going to get sick.

He stood abruptly and stalked across the control room, reaching for his bow in the corner. She could see the tension in his shoulders. How could he be so unaffected by their kiss, when it was pulling her into pieces?

He looked at her one more time. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was originally intended to be read as one long fic, but it hit 21k and nobody wants to do that. The second part flows seamlessly with this part.
> 
> As I mentioned above, this fic is written for eyessharpweaponshot to celebrate a Tumblr follower milestone. I also requested a fic from her to celebrate HER milestone and _we ended up writing the same fic._ No joke. We didn't coordinate it or ANYTHING. We just seem to know each other so well that our minds now share ideas. cool cool.  
If you have time, go check out her fic [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20092159)
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated.
> 
> Paw  
[Find me on Tumblr!](https://pawprinterfanfic.tumblr.com)  
You can find the moodboard for this fic [here](https://pawprinterfanfic.tumblr.com/post/187638435357/hold-on-i-still-want-you-come-back-i-still-need)!  
[Check out this **amazing** piece of fan art by underbellamy on Tumblr here!](https://underbellamy.tumblr.com/post/187656038438/bellarke-fanfiction-dedication-hold-on-i-still)


	2. Chapter 2

**EARTH. 2018.**

Clarke’s arm was burning and her side felt like it was on fire. All of the air in her lungs had been knocked out, leaving her breathless and dizzy. She could taste blood on her tongue and she hoped it was merely from biting her lip.

_She lost._

She stood her ground, like she always did. It wasn’t enough. Now, she was dying. It _felt_ like she was dying, anyways. The world tipped around her dangerously, despite lying unmoving on the ground.

A tree root was digging into her ribs, but she was thankful for it. The sharp pain radiating from it reminded her that she was alive and it reminded her that the fight wasn’t over yet.

_Thanos was around here somewhere. _After what felt like hours of grueling battle, he had appeared, all but one stone attached to his gauntlet. Somehow, he managed to find all of the stones within the last few days – most of which were on Earth.

She didn’t know how the hell they ended up here. One moment, her and Bellamy were lounging in the compound, having the facility to themselves for the next week. Stark was taking a week off with his fiancée, Vision had gone off the grid weeks ago, and the rest of the team had dispersed for different missions.

Then, they saw the news. Spaceships, aliens, disasters – all in New York. Stark disappeared, and _they were the only ones left._

Until they weren’t.

She never expected to see Cap or her defected teammates again – not in the Avenger’s compound, at least. They came home though, and they were willing to fight.

_So, they did._

Somehow, they ended up in Wakanda. When the battle first started, Bellamy was at her side – like he always was. They went into every battle like this – shoulders pressed together, a silent understanding passing between them.

_She wasn’t sure when she lost track of him. _All she knew was, right now, she didn’t know where he was. She was laying in the dirt, bleeding, and she didn’t know where Bellamy was.

Panic was rising in her. _God. _When was the last time she saw him? She remembered seeing him across the field, when Thor arrived. She remembered hearing his voice laughing when she took down a creature. But, after that, _nothing._

Fuck. 

He wasn’t here. 

He could be dead. 

Fear gripped her heart so tightly that it felt like it was shrivelling. Her lungs refused to work. She couldn’t get the words out to call his name. It felt like her body was shutting down. 

_She couldn’t lose him. _She couldn’t lose Bellamy. No. 

No, no, no, no—

“Steve?”

For some reason, this single word made her blood run cold. Despite her bones aching and her head spinning, she lifted her head. 

Across the small clearing, she saw one of the men she fought against during their Civil War, the one that Cap was friends with. He staggered forward, his jaw slack, his eyes wide and—

His knees buckled underneath him, but before he could reach the ground, he was gone, having disappeared in the wind.

He was dead, but his body wasn’t left behind.

All that remained was—

Nothing.

_Nothing was left._

Cap rushed forward, his eyes wide with fear and a scream of anguish spilling from his lips. Clarke didn’t know how, but she managed to pull herself to her feet. Her right hand pressed into her side, trying to stem the flow of blood.

Another scream came from behind her and she spun. A Wakandian crumpled, just as Bucky Barnes did, but he turned to ashes before he hit the ground. Her eyes jumped from one person to another — a horror like no other creeping up in her.

_They were dying._

She watched as dozens of people turned to ash and drifted away on the wind. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t process. Fear had snatched away her ability to speak or move. She was petrified, frozen to watch as countless people died around her, cursed to—

“Bellamy.”

His name came to her without a second thought. A new fear launched into her, curling into every crevice of her body.

No. No, no, no—

Clarke stumbled forward, her desperation making her rise above the petrifying horror. _Bellamy, she had to find Bellamy._

“Bellamy!?” she cried again. She rushed forward, her eyes sweeping across dozens of faces. She tripped and caught herself on a tree, gasping from the white-hot pain shooting from her wounds.

Find him. She had to find him.

_Dead. He could be dead. God, don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead._

Ashes were everywhere. People were screaming — sobbing. The survivors clung to each other.

She couldn’t see him.

Clarke was descending into panic. She clung to the thin strands of hope, begging with everything in her that Bellamy was okay, that he didn’t turn to dust, that—

She surged forward again, breaking free from the forest. Her legs moved on their own accord, taking her further into the masses. Chaos was everywhere and she was in the middle of it all.

“_Bellamy_!” 

Her hand came up to swipe at her cheeks. They were shaking and covered in wetness when she pulled them away. She was crying. When did she start crying? Blood, tears, sweat — she was covered in it all.

She was running now. Screw pain, screw exhaustion — she was moving faster than she ever had in her whole life. _She needed to find him. _She needed him to be okay.

What was that noise? Someone was talking, muttering words over and over.

It was her.

She was the one talking.

_Please. Don’t be dead. Please. Bellamy._

Over and over.

Her eyes snapped from face to face; from shoulder to shoulder. She could recognize him based off one curl of his hair, yet she didn’t see him anywhere.

Clarke was choking. She was spiralling. Drowning. Suffocating. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t—

_There._

Across the field, she saw familiar curls and shoulders. Clarke let out a broken sob and felt her knees buckle under her.

_He was alive._

_Bellamy was alive._

When she made it across the field, she launched herself at him, sobbing so hard that she couldn’t get out a single word. He was covered in blood and shaking too, but he was alive.

_They were alive._

Her bones hurt from how tight she was holding onto him, as if her arms alone would keep him from turning to ash.

He was sobbing into her shoulder, the same words over and over.

“I love you. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

* * *

**VORMIR. 2023.**

Clarke decided early on that she hated this planet. The ground was covered with a foot of black water, quickly spilling into her boots and soaking her feet. The air was smoky and hazy — she could barely see the base of the mountain, never mind the top of it.

The purple sun reflected perfectly in the water, as did the stars. It felt like she was trapped, standing in the middle of a never ending sky. They had been swallowed up by a black hole, maybe, and this wasn’t real at all.

If she didn’t have Bellamy beside her, she would’ve believed it. 

She pushed past the feeling of discomfort and took a step forward, breaking the stillness of the vast body of water. Ripples expanded outwards, disrupting the image of the sky. It made her feel less disoriented.

“Come on,” she said, already taking another step towards the mountain. Whatever they were going to find, it was bound to be up there. Everything else was covered in water.

The journey up the mountain was a long one. Her side ached with a stitch and her legs burned from the steep incline. The whole journey up, her hand hovered on the base of her gun. 

She was on high alert. Who knew what they were about to face? The only person who had come to this planet and survived was Thanos, and she’d more readily die than have a civil conversation with that monster.

As they claimed, the tension thinned. It was almost like being in an open area gave their tension some place to go. When they were trapped on the ship, everything was pressurized.

They were both silent. She tried to convince herself it was so they wouldn’t give their position away, but she knew that was a lie. Things were too complicated to pretend otherwise. They couldn’t pretend to be friends; they couldn’t even pretend to be partners.

As they climbed, she thought about how different the world would’ve been without Thanos — how different her life would’ve been without him.

If the Infinity Stones were never threatened and Thanos never attacked, she and Bellamy would’ve left like they planned to. They would’ve retired, got married, had a family.

_Their life got derailed the day Thanos snapped his fingers._

She was to blame, too. She pushed Bellamy away. She left him. She closed herself off. That wasn’t Thanos’ fault — that was on her.

Thanos was to blame, but so was she.

Her eyes locked on Bellamy’s back as they climbed. She yearned to be beside him, to stand shoulder to shoulder with him, like they used to. She wanted to get back to that; back to their friendship, back to that partnership, back to _something._

She loved him. She always would. 

_After all this is over, I’ll tell him the truth,_ she told herself. _I’ll tell him that I love him. I’ll tell him why I left. I’ll tell him everything._

She knew things wouldn’t go back to normal — they never would — and she was okay with that. He deserved the truth though, and she would tell him everything once they completed the mission.

* * *

**EARTH. 2019.**

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Clarke swung her fist into the hanging punching bag, never losing her momentum or breaking concentration. The slap of her knuckles against the fabric rang out in the otherwise empty gym, and the feeling of satisfaction rose in her.

“Yup.” She blew a strand of her blonde hair out of her eye. “Found me.”

She spun on her heel and kicked the bag, sending it rocking wildly. Sweat was trickling down her neck and her back. The loose strands of her hair clung to her face and her shirt was soaked through. She didn’t know how long she’d been training for — hours, most likely.

Slap after slap filled the gym as she continued her routine on the punching bag. Her muscles ached. Her head throbbed. She was exhausted.

She pushed through.

Clarke was the only one in the gym, like always. Considering the fact that it was just her and Bellamy left living full-time in the compound, this fact didn’t shock her.

Everyone was dead or gone. Stark left to live with his wife. Cap left to do work with those left behind. Teams of heroes were deployed around the universe; Okoye in Wakanda, Danvers in a different galaxy, the Guardians in the vastness of space, Rhodey in a different country.

_(She wanted to be gone, too. Doing something, anything.)_

She could sense Bellamy standing against the wall off to her left side. He was waiting for something. “Need something?” she asked, still not turning her attention away from her workout.

“I haven’t seen you today,” he said. She could hear the hurt and concern in his voice. She distracted herself by planting a hard punch to the bag.

“Been busy,” she said.

Another punch.

“You’ve been in here all day,” Bellamy said, his voice growing sharper. “How long have you been training?”

“A few hours.” Another punch. “Doesn’t matter.”

She sensed Bellamy approaching her, but she didn’t dare turn to look at him. She continued to plant punch after punch into the bag.

“You need to rest, Clarke,” he said. “You’re pushing yourself too much. He’s gone.”

Her arm ached from how hard she punched the bag. Fury rose in her. 

_Fury, shame, grief._

“Don’t talk about him,” she hissed. _Thanos. _She knew he was gone, but that didn’t mean all the wounds he left were gone too. She could feel them festering inside her, spreading further into her soul like an infection. “I’m not training to fight him.”

Bellamy was silent. She continued to punch the bag. Her teeth were grit to bear the pain.

“Come to bed,” he requested. “I’m worried about you. You’re going to get hurt.”

“Going to?” she echoed. “I already _am, _Bellamy. We’re all hurting.” Her palm pressed against the side of the bag, stopping it from swinging wildly. Her chest was heaving — from her workout, from the emotions inside of her. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I will always worry about you, Clarke. You know why? Because I care about you. And I’ll do that forever, too — I’ll always care about you.” He reached for her. She stepped away from him, her whole chest aching. “I know things have been difficult lately.”

“Difficult?” She couldn’t keep the venom from her voice. “Bellamy, we’re living in hell.” Finally, she turned to face him. Her eyes were cold, her mouth twisted with bitterness. He was standing beside her, still looking at her like she hung the stars in the sky.

She didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve that love. She didn’t deserve this happiness. She didn’t deserve to live a life like this — filled with love, and happiness — because so many others didn’t get that. So many people died that day, yet she survived. Where was the justice in all of that?

“Just… Come to bed,” he tried again, not deterred by her frigidness. “Tomorrow, we’ll go see Steve. He’s helping people like us, people who are dealing with remorse and loss.”

Clarke’s jaw muscles rippled. “I don’t need him, Bellamy. I just… I need to train. That’s all.”

Because, if she trained, she could convince herself that she was doing something with her life — something worthwhile. She could lie to herself this way, but the moment she did something for herself, that would stop.

She was consumed by bitterness, and remorse, and guilt. She could’ve stopped all those deaths, but she didn’t. Billions of people died, but she survived.

People called it survivor's guilt. She called it her worst nightmare.

Bellamy kept trying. “I’m worried about you. You’re pushing yourself everyday in here, and that’s not healthy. We both are pushing ourselves, and I think we need to take some time off.” He reached for her and, this time, she didn’t pull away. His touch felt foreign. “We can go wherever you want, do whatever you want. We just… We need time away. Away from all the hero stuff, away from the gym, away from everything. Just us. Maybe we can take a vacation to Greece.”

Maybe it was because this had been bottled up in her for so long. Maybe it was because she was exhausted. Maybe it was because she was done.

She snapped.

“A vacation?” she echoed, her tone icy. She retched her elbow out of his grasp. “You’re proposing we go on a vacation?”

“Yeah. Get away from all of this.”

“Right. Because _that’s _fair.” She scoffed at him. “I can’t believe you’d suggest that!”

“What? Time away? Time together?”

“Yes!” She shook her head. “We were the ones left behind! People are dead because of us — billions of them — and not just from Earth, either. We’re the cause of all of that! And, what, you think we’re _allowed _to take a break? We’re allowed to step back from ‘hero stuff?’”

Bellamy was starting to lose control. “Of course we’re allowed,” he snapped. “You know, Clarke, this isn’t all on you.”

“I never said it was.”

“You’re refusing to let yourself be happy because people are dead.” He crossed his arms. “You’re destroying yourself because people died.”

“I’m not destroying anything.” She glared at him. “You don’t know anything, Blake.” Clarke stalked away from him, headed towards the next hanging punching bag.

“You’re allowed to be happy, even if people are dead. Look at Stark! He’s moved on, let go of things.”

_That _made her see red.

“Let go of things?!” She rounded on him. She was seething. “I will _never _let go of what happened — not because of Stark, not because of you, not because of _anything. _What happened is on us. We don’t get to live normal lives.” She turned again, her eyes locked on the nearest punching bag. “Go away, Bellamy. I have work to do.”

She half expected him to argue more, but he didn’t.

He turned and left.

The sound of her punch echoed around the gym.

* * *

**VORMIR. 2023.**

The higher they hiked, the colder it got. The white snow was almost too perfect for this dark, hellish world. It didn’t seem like it belonged. Fire would’ve been more fitting, Clarke decided. She was grateful that nature didn’t seem to agree.

She slipped on the slopes a few times, sending rocks tumbling off the mountain. Bellamy glanced over his shoulder every time, and it made her chest ache.

When she could see two pillars through the haze, a loud voice echoed against the walls of her head. It felt like something had wormed its way into her mind, riding over her conscious thought.

“Welcome,” the voice rasped. 

She was moving before the voice disappeared completely. Her gun was drawn and pointed forward, her eyes darting wildly from rock formation to rock formation, searching for a threat. Bellamy had fallen in line beside her, his shoulder brushing against hers. 

A dark silhouette emerged from behind a large rock, seemingly floating several feel above the ground. Clarke swung her gun in its direction, her finger already poised on the trigger.

“Clarke, daughter of Jake, and Bellamy, son of Aurora.” The voice is a low purr, and it sent all the hairs on her body to stand upright. A chill passed down her spine and an uneasiness settled in her.

“You know us?”

“It is my curse to know all who journey here.” 

Something wasn’t right — something bigger than this figure already knowing who they were.

_Death. _She could sense death. 

Maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her. Maybe she was just paranoid.

_Maybe they called her Wanheda for a reason._

“Who are you?” Her voice came out as a hiss, her senses already on edge. She stepped in front of Bellamy, the urge to protect him overwhelming her.

“Consider me a guide,” the figure said, a hint of amusement to his voice. “To you, and to all who seek the soul stone.”

Bellamy notched an arrow in place, his eyes never leaving the floating figure. “We aren’t here to cause trouble. Give us the stone, and we’ll be on our way.”

Slowly, the figure inched closer towards them. Her finger twitched on the trigger, watching for any sudden movements or any tricks. She would end this thing’s existence within a heartbeat if it meant keeping Bellamy safe.

The darkness melted away, revealing the blood-red face of the figure. Clarke’s stomach rolled unpleasantly; it wasn’t a _face, _it was a skull. This creature, whatever it may be, was long dead.

“If only it were that easy.”

They walked the remaining distance to the top of the mountain in silence. The fog was thicker here, drawn to them like the tide was drawn to the beach. The edge of a cliff came into focus and, before that, two large stone pillars extend to the sky.

Instead of purple, the sun was orange from the top of the mountain, and it reminded Clarke of home.

_It wasn’t the only thing. _Standing beside Bellamy as they faced an uncertain fate — that reminded her of home, too.

She watched the figure closely as they approached the edge of the cliff. “What you seek lies in front of you,” he said, “as does what you fear.”

Clarke wasn’t a stranger to fear. She looked death in the eyes multiple times, each time coming out the other end stronger.

She peered over the edge of the cliff, looking towards a seemingly bottomless pit. It was darker than any night she could remember; it didn’t look like it was _lacking _light like a shadow, but rather _sucking _in the light like a black hole.

“The stone is down there,” Clarke stated. She could feel it — it was pulling her towards the base of the cliff, over the edge she peered over. She was drawn to it like a magnet. She turned back to Bellamy. “Let’s go.”

An amused grin from the creature caught her attention. Her eyes snapped to his, and a sense of impending doom swept into her.

“The stone lies down there for one of you.” The lips curled upwards, as if this was its favourite joke. “The stone requires… _a sacrifice._”

That was the death that Clarke must’ve sensed — a sacrifice of some sort. Blood, wealth, happiness — she was willing to give it all if it meant righting her past wrongs.

_‘Whatever it takes,’ _she told the team before they went on their missions, and it was true. She was willing to do whatever it took to make sure they got this stone. Without this stone, their whole mission failed, and that couldn’t happen.

They couldn’t fail. The fate of the universe depended on them.

“What kind of sacrifice?” Bellamy asked, processing the information faster than she was.

The creature laughed. Clarke’s finger tightened on the trigger of her gun.

“In order to take the stone, you must lose that which you love. Consider it a soul for a soul. An everlasting exchange.”

The true meaning behind this creature’s words hit Clarke.

_To get the soul stone, one of them had to die. _

* * *

**EARTH. 2019.**

She couldn’t take it. She couldn’t keep living a life filled with happiness and love, not when people were suffering, not when people were dead. She couldn’t live her life in the Avengers compound, pretending like nothing happened.

People were suffering, and she was sitting around doing nothing.

Clarke needed to leave.

It had been brewing for months already. The need to run had been growing in her ever since Thanos snapped his fingers and the dust had settled.

Bellamy said she was destroying her life.

He didn’t understand; her life was destroyed the second Thanos collected all the stones.

“I’m leaving.”

Clarke stood in the doorframe of Bellamy’s office, a backpack filled with some of her belongings strapped on her shoulders. She didn’t know what pushed her over the edge, what made her decide to leave that night.

It didn’t really matter though, did it?

Bellamy’s head shot up, his face slack with horror. Paperwork was spread over his desk — reports on the teams in the field, no doubt. The pen clattered to the desk.

He took in her appearance quickly; stony face, cold eyes, packed bag. He stood, sending the chair behind him toppling to the ground.

“What?”

“I’m leaving.” She lifted her hand up, the brass keys to the compound catching the light. She tossed them in his direction. They clattered to the table alongside his pen.

She didn’t remember much about what followed. She did remember turning to leave, though, and she remembered Bellamy calling after her. He was desperate. Crying. She could see the heartbreak and panic on his face.

She felt it in her own heart too.

Despite everything, she still loved him. She still yearned to marry him, and spend the rest of their lives together, and have a family together. Despite all the pain in her heart, she _wanted _to live a happy life with him.

It was exactly why she knew she needed to leave. She didn’t deserve that, not when so many people had that stolen from them.

“Don’t go,” he begged her. “Stay. Please. For me.”

She couldn’t remember what she said to him; probably something hurtful, based on how his expression crumpled.

She told him goodbye.

He chased after her.

“Is this because you’re guilty? You don’t think we deserve happiness?” He was trying to convince her to stay, despite the fact she was feet away from the front door now. “Because you’re wrong. We deserve happiness. We both do. We deserve a good life.”

He believed what he said was true.

She didn’t.

_But she knew that telling the truth would make him fight harder. _The first thing on her mind was to get out, no matter how. If she told him that he was right, that it was because she couldn’t allow herself to be happy, then he’d never let her go.

_Lie._

“No,” she said. “This has nothing to do with that.”

“Why are you leaving then?” 

_He was desperate for her to stay._

_She was desperate to leave._

“I want to make a difference in the world. I can’t sit here and do nothing. I need to be out there, working.” _That wasn’t a complete lie._

“We are making a difference. Here. Running the Avengers. Someone needs to do this job.”

“And you’re doing it.”

“Don’t leave,” he begged her again. “You can be a ground team, like Rhodey or Danvers. You don’t have to stay here. Just… Don’t leave the team.”

It was exactly what she needed to do. She needed to get away from him, because the longer she was around him, the harder it was going to be. She needed to get away from the ghosts of an easier past.

She knew Bellamy well, and she knew he wasn’t going to relent.

_Lie harder._

“I want a different life than this. I’m not happy here.” It looked like her words physically punched him in the gut. 

“Clarke—”

He wasn’t going to let her go. She needed to do more.

_Lie harder._

“I don’t love you anymore,” she said simply. The words were difficult to say, and watching their impact on him was even more difficult than that.

He was swaying on his feet. The blood had drained from his face. He was at a loss for words.

She knew what she was saying was hurting him. _She knew. _But this was the only way he would let her go, and she knew that her leaving was the only way she’d be able to find a sense of peace in herself.

“We can work this out,” he finally managed to say. “Please—”

“I already decided,” she said, her tone holding no room for arguments. “There’s nothing to work out. We’re done.”

While she didn’t remember much, she doubted she would ever forget that final expression on Bellamy’s face, nor would she ever forget how her whole body burned with grief as she left the Avengers compound. 

This is the only option, she told herself. 

She didn’t quite believe it.

_Lie harder._

* * *

**SPACE. 2023.**

Only one of them would be getting the soul stone, only one of them would be leaving this planet.

The world tipped dangerously around her. She managed to stay standing out of sheer willpower. Her stomach rolled and her body filled with dread.

No.

This couldn’t be right. This couldn’t be real.

They didn’t come all this way just for one of them to die. They didn’t go through years of fighting to survive for it all to end here. It couldn’t. She refused to accept that.

“No,” her voice came out as a growl. She spun around to face the floating figure, but it was gone — like it vanished in thin air. Still wild with dread, her blazing gaze snapped to Bellamy.

The air left her chest. He was looking at her, his expression horrified. His jaw was slack, his eyes wide and locked on hers, his face drained of blood. 

_His expression reminded her of the night she left him._

“No,” she said, her voice forceful. She wasn’t going to let this happen. “Bellamy, this isn’t true. This… This can’t be true.”

“Thanos came here with his daughter, he left with the stone.” Bellamy took a few paces away from her. His eyes were locked over the edge of the cliff, looking into the dark abyss. He looked angry and closed off. “I should’ve noticed. I should’ve realized. _Fuck!”_

He spun around and swung his bow like a baseball bat, smashing it against a jagged rock. She could hear the crack of the wood frame. In the silence, it sounded like a crack of thunder.

Clarke watched him in disbelief. 

He believed it. He thought the creature was telling the truth, that one of them had to die to complete the mission.

_A soul for a soul._

(A small part of her believed it too.)

It made sense. How could someone expect to get something so powerful as an Infinity Stone without sacrificing something? She could see the logic behind it. Having the pursuer required to sacrifice something they loved prevented just anyone from obtaining the stone. It was a form of protection.

Screw logic, though. Logic was all well and good, but _this was real. _This wasn’t just a theoretical scenario — it was real, and it was happening, and it was _terrifying._

The first bout of panic was subsiding now, slowly being replaced by gut-wrenching dread. It felt like there was a gaping hole in her stomach; a black hole, swallowing all hope and light.

Denial became despair.

“No,” she said again, her voice cracking. 

The rocks were cold under her hand — how did she end up on the ground? Her legs must’ve given out from under her.

A new type of fear was filling her. If what the creature said was true — if one of them had to sacrifice themselves to get the stone — then one of them had to die.

_Not Bellamy._

It was the strongest thought in her mind. It jumped out between all the chaos, like a blazing sun in the emptiness of space.

_Not Bellamy. _He couldn’t be the one to sacrifice himself — she refused to let that happen. He couldn’t die, not when he was so _good, _not when she loved him so much.

He wouldn’t die, not because of her, not when she could prevent it.

Bellamy was the best of them; he saved so many lives, he found redemption for the nightmares that he committed, he was the one that stayed behind to organize the Avengers when everyone else left. He tried to do his best, he strived for a better world, he held onto hope.

_If it wasn’t going to be him, it was going to be her._

That thought didn’t terrify her as much as it should have.

She glanced back over the edge of the cliff, staring at her death unflinching.

She knew death well, like they were old friends. She wasn’t a stranger to it. She wasn’t scared of it for herself — she hadn’t been for a long time.

Death did scare her though, if she was thinking of _Bellamy’s_ death. Losing him — someone she loved so much, someone that was so full of life — it terrified her.

“Whatever it takes,” he told her, breaking her thoughts. 

Clarke looked at him. His expression was set with determination; his jaw locked, his lips thin, his eyes intense.

He had no idea that she already decided their fates.

“Whatever it takes,” she echoed.

She wasn’t afraid, not when she was saving someone she loved, not when her actions could bring billions of people back to life.

Clarke glanced down at her wrist and her eyes locked on the silver watch strapped to her arm. It was her father’s watch; the only token she carried with her from what seemed like a previous life.

Somehow, it felt wrong to bring it with her over the edge of the cliff. It represented life and hope to her, bringing light through the darkness when she needed it.

She couldn’t bear to bring it with her to death.

“Clarke?” Bellamy’s voice was startled. Her fingers were numb as they undid the buckle. “What are you—?”

“It’s okay,” she promised him, her voice even. Moments ago, she was near hysterics, and now—

Now, she felt at peace with acceptance.

If this was going to be her last moment breathing, she knew what she had to do. She promised herself moments ago that after all of this was over, she’d tell him the truth.

_She wouldn’t get to see this mission to the end._

Now was her last chance.

“You were right,” she admitted as the watch slipped from her wrist. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Bellamy watched her, horror and confusion sitting like a mask on his face. “The day I left, you were right.”

He looked thrown by her sudden shift in conversation. He struggled to speak. “I— I, what?”

“You were right, and I lied.” The watch was a weight in her hands, feeling much heavier than it actually was. “I’m a liar.”

He took a step towards her. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Do you remember the night I left?” She took a step towards him. It was a night she often played in her mind, refusing to let herself forget it completely. “I packed my bag. I threw you the keys to the compound. You asked me to stay, you promised me that we could work something out.”

Bellamy was too shocked to be upset. He managed a nod. “I remember.”

“When I told you I was leaving, you asked me if it was because I refused to let myself be happy.”

“It wasn’t,” he said. His expression was shifting, mirroring the heartbreak he had all those years ago. “You left because you couldn’t be happy there. You didn’t love me.”

Her heart was frozen in her chest.

“I lied.” Despite feeling strength in her chest, her face crumpled with emotion. “I lied to you that night, Bellamy. You were right — I left because I was in a bad place. I left because I couldn’t deal with the guilt of being the one left behind. I left because I couldn’t let myself be happy, and that’s exactly what I felt around you. _Happy._” She took a step towards him, her legs unsteady beneath her. “I told you I didn’t love you anymore — that, that was why I needed to leave. But I loved you.” Her chin trembled and she fought to maintain composure. “I loved you so much, and I lied because I needed to go. I _still _love you so much.”

He didn’t move, didn’t speak. 

She could feel the time slipping away from them.

They needed to complete the mission.

She said what she promised herself. She was determined with her choices. 

_This was goodbye._

Clarke dropped her watch to the ground. The glass face cracked on impact.

One last time, she looked at Bellamy. He was petrified and his face unreadable.

Clarke smiled.

“One death for billions. I’m okay with that.”

She turned to the face of the cliff and ran.

* * *

**EARTH. 2016.**

“You don’t have to look at me like that,” Bellamy said, his voice strained. She could see the muscles in his jaw tense, just like the rest of his body. He was biting down on his groans of pain.

“You’re so stupid,” she told him, her voice thick. She didn’t know why she was crying; they’d been here before.

This wasn’t the first time his blood was on her hands. She’s stitched him up more times than she’d like to think about.

This was their routine. Before the Avengers were a family and before they had their own medical team, they were in charge of their own injuries. She wasn’t a doctor - not by a long shot — but she knew how to stitch a wound and stop the bleeding. She’d done it to herself many times.

It was different now — she wasn’t stitching a wound, she wasn’t examining a fresh wound, her eyes weren’t the first one to look at it. The team of doctors had already come and gone. The stitches were in, he was cleared, he was okay.

_Still, she cried._

“I’m okay,” he promised her, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.

She leaned into his grasp. Her own hand curled around his wrist because she needed to feel him beneath her palm. She needed to feel his warmth and hear his voice.

_She almost lost him. _

She saw the blast before he did, but she didn’t get to him in time. Clarke watched as he was thrown backwards, a piece of shrapnel piercing his abdomen. She crouched in the streets over him, screaming over the comms for someone to get medical to her location. She clawed at him, unsure of what to do to save him. 

Never before in her life did she fear death so much. He was the first person she loved with her whole heart — he was one of the first people that she considered family.

_And watching him bleed out on the streets was torture._

She’d seen death before. She wasn’t a stranger to it. She wasn’t scared of it for herself — she knew it was coming one day or another.

But she was scared of it in that moment. She was scared of death, as it’s claws dug into Bellamy. 

She was terrified of losing him.

“I’m here,” he repeated again, his voice raspy.

She clutched his hand with hers. “I’m sorry,” she said, the tears not stopping. “I... I saw it and I couldn’t—”

“No,” he told her, shaking his head. “No, don’t be sorry.” His grin was lazy. “This is part of the job. Blood, pain, injuries.” His smile faded the slightest bit. “Death.”

“No,” she told him, her voice harsh. “No, it isn’t. Not for you.” Her grasp tightened. “I won’t let that happen.” Her laugh was dry. “I’m Wanheda, the Commander of Death. That... that has to be good for something, right?”

Her joke fell flat. They both knew that death couldn’t be controlled, no matter how much either of them wanted to.

“Clarke...”

She tried again. “I’ll keep you safe,” she promised him, her voice wavering. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you, Bellamy. You’re too important to me.”

He turned his head and pressed a quick kiss to the palm of her hand. Her breath faltered and another sob seemed to bubble out of her.

“Come here,” he asked, his voice soft.

She didn’t need further prompting. She fell into his chest.

* * *

**VORMIR. 2023.**

_I’ll keep you safe. _It was a promise she made so long ago.

Unlike their other promises, she intended to keep this one.

When she launched herself over the edge of the cliff, her thoughts were on those promises — the ones broken, the ones kept.

The wind whipped her hair wildly around her face and the snow pellets stung her cheeks as she plummeted towards her death. It felt like her stomach had been left at the top of the mountain, while the rest of her body hurdled towards the bottom.

She closed her eyes. She was at peace, having accepted the situation long ago. This was okay. The world would be oka—

Her arm jolted and pain burst from her shoulder. She let out a grunt as her fall came to a jarring stop. It felt like she had hit solid ground from the way the air got knocked from her lungs, but—

No. She was still alive. She wasn’t in pain, she could only feel pain from her shoulder, and she was still breathing. But how?

“Are you stupid!?” 

Horror filled her at the sound of his voice. _No—_

Her head snapped up. Bellamy was hanging off the edge of the cliff, his hand locked on hers and his body attached to the top by his repelling equipment. 

She wasn’t going to keep that final promise — the one to keep him safe, _to keep him alive. _He was dangling off the edge of the cliff with her, both of them teetering towards death.

_No._

“Bellamy!” His name was a cry from her lips, her anguish bleeding through. _“No!”_

The rocky side of the cliff scraped into the front of her body. His legs were planted firmly into the stone, finding a ledge to hold most of his weight. His hand was locked around her wrist, his fingers digging into her flesh with enough force to leave bruises.

“What were you thinking!?” Bellamy was screaming, but she could barely hear him over the howl of the wind. 

“It’s the only way!” She quickly surveyed the situation. He was secured to the wall with his harness and his legs, while she hung freely. She knew he wouldn’t be able to hold her up, not for long. She could still do this. “Bellamy—“

“I love you!” His voice broke with emotion. “I love you, too, Clarke — so much — so fucking much.” His fingers tightened on her wrist. “I always have, always will.”

Her heart shattered with his words. 

This wasn’t what she intended what she told him the truth. She wanted her admission to provide closure to both of them, not complicate everything so much more.

Bellamy’s hand was becoming slick with sweat. She could feel her wrist slipping through his fingers. 

They were running out of time.

“Don’t go,” he begged. His heart clenched painfully. “Please don’t go, Clarke.”

This was all too familiar — her leaving and him holding onto thin threads of hope. Even his words echoed the ones he spoke the night she left.

_They’d been here before._

“It’s okay,” she tried to tell him again.

“Please, Clarke. Come back. Come up. We can find another way.” 

He was bargaining now, but she was resolute. “There isn’t one.”

“Please!” he begged. She didn’t know how he was still able to hold on through his sobs. His whole body was shaking with the force of them. “Don’t go. Don’t go, Clarke. Don’t leave me.” His grip tightened. “I love you. _I love you. _Stay with me. Stay with me, and we can work this out. We can… Now that we know, we can be together again. We can be happy. Do you want to be happy?”

_Yes, I do._

But, she wanted everyone else happy first. She wanted all those lost returned home. She wanted all the fractured families healed. She wanted to bring back everyone Thanos killed.

She was determined to save those that she could, and she was willing to sacrifice anything to do so.

_Whatever it takes._

Simply, she said, “You deserve to be happy.”

“Clarke,” he sobbed.

Her laugh was wet. “I bear it so they don’t have to. _So you don’t have to._” She wiggled her fingers. She could feel herself slowly slip down his grasp. She knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.

“Don’t.”

“Get the stone,” she told him, her voice strong. “Get it back to Stark. Bring them back.” Her eyes locked on his. “Promise me. Promise me that you’ll do it.”

He could barely manage the words. “I promise.” He let out a broken sob. In one final attempt, he whispered, “please, Clarke.”

She was crying, too, now. Despite the tears running down her face, she was smiling. She looked _happy, _and it hurt Bellamy more than any of her other smiles have.

“It’s okay. Let me go.”

He desperately tried to hold on. “No. No, Clarke, don’t—“

With one look of determination, she kicked off the side of the cliff they dangled off of, twisting out of Bellamy’s grip. As her wrist slipped from between his fingers, he let out a broken scream and lunged for her.

_But she was out of his reach._

He choked on his sob and turned to the sky, not wanting to see her hit the ground so far below. As his eyes rested on the dark clouds, he let out a blood-curdling scream. 

Again and again, he screamed, until he was sure his throat was bleeding.

Seconds later, he woke up waist deep in water, a glowing orange gem in his hand.

He knew he should’ve been happy. _The mission was a success. _They got the stone.

_Bellamy could only curl in on himself and sob._

* * *

**EARTH. 2023.**

Hours later, Bellamy didn’t recognize the world. Somehow, against all odds, _they did it. _Their plan had worked – all of the teams recovered their stones, Stark’s gauntlet was constructed without a mistake, Banner sacrificed his arm in a snap that brought everyone back.

_Everyone except her._

(“I tried,” Banner told him after the battle, his voice heavy. “When… When I had the gems, and I was focusing on bringing people back, I thought of her. I tried to get her back. I’m sorry.”)

The battle was a blur. He didn’t know how many things he killed. He didn’t know how many friends he lost. He didn’t know how they were going to win.

One thing he did know was that this was the first battle without her. This was the first battle the Avengers ever fought where Clarke didn’t stand beside them. This was the first time he faced an enemy without her beside him.

He kept a piece of her with him during the battle. The shattered watch seemingly weighed a thousand pounds in his pocket, containing the weight of all his regrets and mistakes.

In the end, they won. Once again, the universe was covered with a layer of ash. 

_This time, it wasn’t theirs. _

Stark killed Thanos the same way the monster killed everyone the first time, which was an ironic fate. 

A day hadn’t passed before he was begging them for a mission. 

_“Please. Anything. I need to do something.”_

He couldn’t keep sitting around, knowing that she wasn’t coming back. He couldn’t sit with his teammates without her. He couldn’t pretend to be happy when she wasn’t alive. He couldn’t do _nothing _in a world that only survived because of her sacrifice.

Banner wasn’t stupid, but he didn’t say anything. He gave him a mission. 

_Return the stones to the proper timeline._

This was something he could do. 

* * *

**EARTH.**

Bellamy didn’t know how much time had passed since Banner gave him the mission. The passing of days was hard to keep track of when time travelling.

_He did it. _All of the Infinity Stones were returned to their rightful places. Some places were harder to return to than others, like the mountain on top of Vormir, where Clarke died only days before.

But it was done. All the possible timelines were corrected, all the realities restored.

And now—

_Now, he got to go home._

Bellamy glanced at the final Pym particle in the palm of his hand. One Pym particle meant he had one trip left. 

This was his ride back.

His ride home.

* * *

**GREECE. 2021.**

Home, as Bellamy learned, wasn’t a location or even a time.

_It was a person._

He saw her at a cafe in summer. Her blonde hair was pulled into a braid along the back of her neck, reminding him of how she used to wear it when they first met.

He travelled to 2021 — three years after the Decimation and two years after she left him. They hadn’t seen each other between 2019 and 2023 — they hadn’t spoken, either — but he knew she was in Greece in July. She told him herself as they hurdled across the galaxy.

He wasn’t too sure what to expect, considering the last time he saw her before the mission she died on was the night they broke up. She had been a mess of guilt and regret. When they reunited in 2023, things were tense, but she was healed.

What would she be like in 2021?

_She was different. _

Clarke was happy, at peace, enjoying life. 

When she spotted him across the street from her, a million emotions crossed her face. He could read each one as easily as he remembered.

Shock. Hope. Adoration. Relief. Worry. Fear. Hurt. Guilt. And, then— nothing.

Clarke met him at the corner of the street, her eyes wide, her face blank. “Bellamy. I didn't expect to see you here.”

He almost sobbed at her voice. The last time he heard it, she was telling him to let go.

He pushed those memories away.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, already thinking of reasons why he could be there. “Cap? Stark?”

“Everyone is okay,” he breathed. That statement couldn’t be more true. _She was okay. _“I’m not here on a mission.”

Another wave of shock flitted through her face. “Oh.” She studied him. “I don’t understand, I—“

He pulled his hand from his pocket. The scuffed silver metal of her father’s watch caught the light. And, there, under the cracked glass, he could see the date. _2023._

Clarke’s lips parted with shock. Her eyes searched his, desperate for answers. Without speaking, she tugged up the sleeve of her sweater. Sitting on her wrist was an exact replica of the watch in his hands, this one still in pristine condition. And, under the smooth glass, they could both read the date. _2021._

He could see her mind racing, trying to piece everything back together. 

“You’re… You’re not from here, are you? Not this time?” She guessed. His heart skipped a beat. 

“No. I’m not.”

Clarke shook her head. “I don’t understand,” she admitted. 

For the first time in a long time, he felt _hope _blossom inside his chest.

Bellamy smiled. “We have all the time in the world.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> Paw  
[Find me on Tumblr!](https://pawprinterfanfic.tumblr.com)  
You can find the moodboard for this fic [here](https://pawprinterfanfic.tumblr.com/post/187638435357/hold-on-i-still-want-you-come-back-i-still-need)!  
[Check out this **amazing** piece of fan art by underbellamy on Tumblr here!](https://underbellamy.tumblr.com/post/187656038438/bellarke-fanfiction-dedication-hold-on-i-still)


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